


A Beginner's Guide to Lift-Off

by scintilla10



Category: Community
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Trapped in an elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/pseuds/scintilla10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Britta and Annie are trapped in an elevator!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beginner's Guide to Lift-Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aphrodite_mine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/gifts).



"Britta!" Annie called. "Come on!"

She was waiting impatiently inside an elevator that looked like it was from the Jurassic Period. 

Britta frowned. She hadn't even know this part of the Greendale campus existed. And despite Annie's confidence in the map she was waving above her head, Britta didn't trust anything that was published by the Greendale Kartography Klub.

"I'm not stepping in that thing," Britta said.

"Britta!" Annie exclaimed.

"That's a death trap," Britta said matter-of-factly. "And, let's be honest here, taking a picture of the classroom where what's-her-face wrote her first poem is not going to get you an A-quintuple-plus. We all know you're already getting an A."

"It's Scheherazade Heller, not what's-her-face. And she's a local poetry slam legend," Annie corrected primly. 

Britta nodded. She respected a good poetry slammer as much as the next person (as long as the next person wasn't Jeff Winger).

Annie had drafted Britta into taking photographs of the old Greendale poetry classroom for her multimedia presentation on the poet's origins. Britta had at first been flattered by Annie's promise to give her a professional photo credit. But now they were in an abandoned part of the campus about to descend to something referred to as a sub-basement, and this whole thing was just getting creeptastic.

"Aren't there stairs?" Britta said weakly.

Annie grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside the elevator. The doors closed. Britta shut her eyes. The elevator made a sound like a congested demon vacuum sputtering to life. It rattled and jerked them in a vaguely downwards direction for a few heart-spiking moments, and then it came to a firm and decided halt.

"Um," said Annie.

Britta refused to open her eyes. "Are we dead?" she said.

"Nooo," Annie replied. "We're sort of -- stuck."

Britta opened one eye with great reluctance. The lights were off, the doors were firmly closed, and the light above the door flickered forlornly between G -1 and G.

Annie already had her phone out. "I'm calling Abed," she said. 

"Good idea," Britta said faintly.

She sat down and took a few deep breaths. Then, unwilling to discard an opportunity when she saw one, she picked up her camera and took an artistic shot of Annie's concerned face. She could call it "Girl Trapped in Elevator."

"Britta!" Annie said, annoyed. "Stop taking pictures and help me try to pry this open!"

They didn't have anything to use to wedge the doors open, so it didn't take them long to give up on the idea. 

"It's going to take Abed a while to find us," Annie said glumly. "He didn't know what I meant by Eugene Hall, Outbuilding F."

"Oh, those Kartography Klub kids," Britta said, and sighed. She sank to the floor again. 

Annie slid down next to her. "Sorry," she said softly, nudging Britta gently with her shoulder. 

"Hey," Britta said, feeling magnanimous in the face of impending elevator imprisonment. "You only have to apologize if we don't survive this."

Annie looked stricken. "We're going to survive this! We're definitely going to survive this. I mean, I have a test tomorrow!"

Britta could feel Annie trembling a little bit, where their bodies were pressed next to one another. She was pretty sure the trembling was not completely related to the aforementioned test, and it was a bit of a relief to realize she wasn't the only one affected by being trapped in an ancient demon elevator. 

Then again, how often was a person trapped in an elevator? 

"Annie," she whispered. "How do you feel about making out?"

After all, they had to pass the time of imprisonment somehow. Britta thought even Nelson Mandela might approve.

There was a small silence. "What?" Annie said.

"You know," Britta said, as casually as she could while her pulse was leaping under her skin. "Just to pass the time."

Annie turned her head so that Britta could just make out the way her mouth was firmly set. 

"I don't want to make out just to pass the time with you," Annie said.

"Oh," Britta said. "No. I meant. Theoretically, would you-- Hypothetically, that is. Make out with someone in a situation similar to --"

"I do want to make out with you, though," Annie said.

Britta said, "What? Really?" and then Annie was leaning forward, smelling of strawberries and cinnamon, and her breasts were pressed against Britta's upper arm, and she was kissing her, soft, sweet, gentle.

"Me too," Britta breathed into Annie's mouth, and she reached up to tangle her hand in Annie's silky hair and kiss her some more. Her lips tasted like the most delicious bubblegum lip gloss Britta had ever tried.

Sometime later they heard Troy's voice outside the elevator door. "Hey, anybody in there? I have an _actual crowbar_.I didn't know these things were real!"

"Also, before we open this door," Abed's voice said, "I'd like to point out that narrative convention dictates that when we open the door we find either dismemberment or kissing."

Annie looked at Britta and giggled. Even in the terrible light of the elevator, Britta could see her cheeks were a rosy pink.

Britta grinned back. "Don't worry, Abed!" she called back. "We've got it covered."


End file.
